Miles To Go Before I Sleep
by Padfoot Lives
Summary: Some wounds may never heal . . .
1. The Letter

Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter", etc, etc, etc. It all belongs to J.K Rowling, except for stuff you don't recognize.  
  
Summary: Some wounds may never heal . . .  
  
**  
  
*  
  
~ Miles To Go Before I Sleep  
  
- Chapter One: The Letter  
  
*  
  
**  
  
// Dear Harry (Ron, Sirius and Remus if you guys are reading this too),  
  
I hope you're safe and that you got to Sirius and Remus' house (thank God Sirius moved out of Grimmauld Place; it was downright depressing) all right. I know Voldemort's gone, the battle's over, etc, but I still worry about you, all right? How are the others? I know it's been only two weeks since school closed for the summer holidays, but has Ron's broken arm healed properly?  
  
Anyway, since Hedwig turned up so unexpectedly, I thought I'd write to tell you that Mum and Dad have agreed about my holiday plans and I should be arriving at the house on Friday evening, by half past eight or so if that's okay. Mum's dropping me off at the nearest Underground station and I'll be walking from there, so I'll be deeply grateful, Harry, if neither you nor Sirius send red sparks up into the air if I'm a couple of minutes late. All right, I'll see you guys then!  
  
Love from, Hermione  
  
P.S - Sirius, Crookshanks says hi and sends a purr. //  
  
Harry folded up the letter and grinned around at the seventeen-year-old redhead peering over his shoulder and the two handsome men in their early thirties practically falling over the couch in an effort to read Hermione's neat handwriting.  
  
"She'll finally be here!" he enthused, sinking back into the couch, exhausted after a day of flying in the tree-secluded backyard of the country house Sirius and Remus had gotten. "It's about time; Ron and I must have been here for a week at least!"  
  
"Two days, Harry," Remus Lupin said dryly, chuckling. "A mere two days."  
  
Ron bounded onto the couch next to Harry so that the green-eyed boy nearly flew off. "Well, she'll be happy to know my arm's just perfect again!"  
  
"I noticed." Harry grumbled, as Sirius plucked the letter out of his hands.  
  
"Incredible, I'd say," declared Ron, directing this to Harry and Remus, who was sitting in the armchair across the coffee table. "Seeing as that git Crabbe sent BOTH Bludgers after me, and Madam Pomfrey wasn't even around that week to heal it."  
  
Sirius, glancing through Hermione's letter, had a new point to make. "The nearest Underground station is six miles away." He said sharply. "What does she think she's doing - walking here six miles on a Friday night?"  
  
"That would be tomorrow night," Remus pointed out, glancing up at the highly unusual clock he had on his wall. He frowned thoughtfully. "I must admit, Padfoot, that does seem rather unwise - "  
  
"Oh it's Hermione," Ron blew this off in his typically lighthearted manner. "She loves walking; a fanatic about it, and any bloke who tries to get some of her will find himself in a pool of deep dung, I'll tell you that."  
  
Harry began to laugh at Ron's description, but Sirius, who was sitting on the windowsill in a typically anarchic manner, his fingers raking, seemingly frustrated, through his short dark hair, scowled.  
  
"Any bloke tries to 'get some of her'?" he demanded. "Are we supposed to let that happen? 'Cuz I'm not saying it won't; that girl's become something else over the past couple of years."  
  
"Oh lighten up, Sirius," Ron grinned. "She'll be fine."  
  
"So," Harry grinned at Remus and then looked at Sirius. "What do we do tonight - our last night as an all-men household for this summer?"  
  
Sirius shook his head, smiling, and of course, it was Ron who came up with the suggestion:  
  
"Let's call in one of those Muggle 'strippers' - is that the word, Harry? - and have a bachelor party!"  
  
"Wizards have bachelor parties, do they?" Harry demanded.  
  
"What's a stripper?" Remus was very interested to know. "If it's related to what the verb means, then I'm afraid, Ron - " he looked amused, nonetheless.  
  
Sirius leaped off the windowsill. "You know, maybe this bachelor party of Ron's isn't a bad idea!" he shrugged, grinning. "We could all use some testosterone in our blood for a change, seeing as neither Tonks - " he glanced mischievously at Remus, who flushed, " - nor a certain Ms Delacour - " Ron grinned, flaming red, " - will be visiting for a while. And Harry, and I, I fear, are doomed to remain celibate."  
  
The others began to laugh. They believed Sirius could remain celibate for even the next week about as much as they believed Draco Malfoy was in love with Hermione.  
  
"You know, Sirius, someone is going to have to curb your playboy ways one day." Remus told him, shaking his head.  
  
Sirius grinned. "Come now, Moony, it's all part of the charm. Besides, there's been no one worth throwing the playboy life along yet, and at thirty-three, I doubt anyone's going to Apparate into the room and change my life."  
  
"I'll say one thing," Harry commented, eyeing his godfather shrewdly. "The girl - woman - who changes Sirius and wins his heart will be a rare, special one. If you come across her, Snuffles, hold on to her tight."  
  
"I wonder," the werewolf in the room idly flicked his wand around his fingers, glancing at Sirius from under heavily lidded eyes - a very unnerving and penetrating stare. "If Sirius hasn't already come across her."  
  
"Right," Sirius clapped his hands instantly, turning to Ron almost desperately. "Where do we call these strippers?"  
  
Harry raised his eyebrows and glanced at Ron.  
  
HAD Sirius met someone? He wondered, grinning. That would be one incredible thing to watch; Sirius falling in love. Harry didn't doubt it was possible, but from all he knew about his godfather, he didn't think it likely.  
  
He half-listened as Sirius and Ron discussed with obvious eagerness their plans for the night, while Remus tried half-heartedly to discourage them with all kinds of moral restrictions and complaints along the lines of 'demeaning the poor young women' and Merlin knew what else. Instead, Harry looked forward to Hermione's arrival the following evening, and hoped she wouldn't keep them all in eager suspense by showing up late.  
  
At least, he thought with a grin, Hermione was a lot happier now (her breakup with Viktor Krum had been painful and hard) and she was sure to be a hell of a lot happier once she arrived there.  
  
Little did he - or any of them, eagerly waiting the last member of their pack's arrival - know how wrong they were.  
  
** TBC.  
  
**  
  
A/N: Wow. Right, I really have to apologize for getting the readers' hopes up and then scrapping 'Destiny's Daughter', but it really wasn't working for me. I'm hoping that this one does, however, and I hope you guys will forgive me and review, letting me know if you like it. Enjoy! 


	2. Wrong

Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter", etc, etc, etc. It all belongs to J.K Rowling, except for stuff you don't recognize.  
  
Summary: Some wounds may never heal . . .  
  
**  
  
*  
  
~ Miles To Go Before I Sleep  
  
- Chapter Two: Wrong  
  
*  
  
**  
  
Hermione Granger decided that this had to be one of her less brilliant ideas. She had known, of course, that the Underground station was a pretty good distance from the Marauders' home, but she hadn't warranted on the chilly eeriness of the night as the sun set quickly, and the silent desertion of the streets as she left the suburbs.  
  
The moon was a crescent, glowing dimly in the navy, star-studded sky above her. It was only thanks to those slivers of light that she could see her way at all; uneasy she might be out here, but she still had her senses fully about her and the responsible, wary side of her wouldn't allow her to unpack her wand and mutter 'Lumos' - not when there was the chance of a Muggle wandering around here, which was more than likely.  
  
Crookshanks, her ginger cat, hissed beside her, and Hermione stiffened. Had her faithful bandy-legged pet heard something?  
  
She stopped to listen, but there was nothing. Only the sounds of the trees rustling in the light wind, and the occasional hoot of an owl. Hermione almost wished she had even Hedwig's company right now to keep an eye on their surroundings.  
  
"Don't be silly, 'Mione," she chided herself sharply, speaking out loud for the sole purpose of making herself feel less alone out there. "There's nothing here. If there was even the smallest chance of danger, don't you think one of the guys would have made sure to pick you up at the station?"  
  
Although perhaps, a tiny whisper hissed inside her head, their being male, they didn't know some of the dangers that could lurk in wait for her . . .  
  
The sound of Crookshanks spitting viciously made Hermione stop again. Was that a footstep she'd just heard in the bushes? Was someone following her?  
  
Involuntarily, she shuddered.  
  
"Hello?" she called, angry at how timid her voice sounded. "Is - is someone there?"  
  
There was no response, but just as Hermione turned to hurry on her way, a shower of red sparks shot up into the air from the bushes a little ahead of her lining the path. Her heart nearly stopped.  
  
There was no longer any doubt about it. There was a wizard close by, and the wizard could only be here for one reason - he (or she) was following her, and wanted her to know it . . .  
  
For a brief instant, anger flashed inside her, overlapping the fear. "Who the hell are you?" she demanded angrily, irritated that any mindless witch or wizard was playing a stunt like this. "What do you want?"  
  
She nearly screamed aloud and something suddenly flew out of the bushes and landed at her feet. Slowly, her hands trembling as she realized that her wand was packed deep into the Anti-Weight-charmed trunk to be reached easily; she reached down and picked up the object.  
  
It was a tiny broomstick.  
  
Hermione began to shake all over as a cold fear grasped her heart and panic overtook all senses. The toy brought back memories . . . memories that she feared and had thought would never return to haunt her . . . and now, now the message was all too clear: he was going to finish what he'd only just started.  
  
// Run, 'Mione! // A voice screamed in the rational part of her brain, as Crookshanks hissed and spat. // Run before it's too late. //  
  
But her legs weren't working.  
  
This was wrong . . . this shouldn't have to happen. Tears burst forth from the voice inside her heart, screaming over and over again that this was wrong.  
  
And then, a shadow moved in the bushes and the tall form finally uncurled and stepped out into the starlight, strolling towards her, a terrible smile lighting up those harsh features. Hermione stood frozen, knees buckling, and wondered if she'd be lucky enough to die.  
  
***  
  
"She's late." Sirius stated, looking at the clock on the wall.  
  
"By five minutes, Sirius," Ron said uneasily, glancing across at Harry. "Try not to be so jumpy, mate, you're making us all edgy."  
  
Sirius banged his fist against the wall as he stood at the window, glaring out into the darkened country lane. "Maybe we should - "  
  
"Sirius, Hermione will KILL you if she finds out we're running out looking for her," Harry reminded him. "Don't forget that if there's one thing she hates, it's being made to feel weak, and don't forget, also, that she warned us not to send up red sparks if she was a little late."  
  
"Yeah, maybe she took a break or something," Ron offered helpfully, rumpling up his red hair self-consciously. "Can't expect anyone to walk the miles straight without a moment's pause."  
  
"But - " Sirius broke off and turned to look at Remus, who had just come into the room after starting dinner in the kitchen. "Moony, what do you think we should do?"  
  
"Do?" the slightly older man questioned mildly. "Why 'do' anything, Sirius?"  
  
"Hermione's never late."  
  
"This would hardly count as the Yule Ball, would it, Padfoot? She's under no time obligation."  
  
Harry and Ron seemed to be on the verge of grins at that, but at Sirius's scowl, they refrained from doing so. It seemed that Sirius had grown more paternal over the past few months - or at least, that was what they assumed.  
  
"Remus," Sirius began, obviously (and correctly) deeming Harry and Ron beneath his arguing capacity and instead focusing on his only remaining best friend, "What if some drunken loony followed her from one of those Muggle places - bars? Or what if Draco Malfoy or one of Snape's types are out to play some reckless prank - "  
  
"My, my," Remus seemed amused for a moment. "The pot calling the kettle black!"  
  
At that, Sirius grinned, and the two watching teenagers were free to laugh, but the Animagus soon sobered and scowled out of the window again. "Dammit, where IS - Merlin's beard!" he yelled suddenly.  
  
"What?" both Harry and Ron demanded together, leaping for the window while Remus approached at a more controlled pace.  
  
"Isn't that 'Mione?" Sirius pointed out of the window, surprise etching every feature of his face.  
  
It was certainly Hermione, judging by the trunk and the ginger cat bounding alongside her, but they may not have recognized her had Sirius not been watching the lane so carefully. None of them had ever seen Hermione run the way she was at the moment, in such a fully-fledged, lamb-with-a-broken-leg manner.  
  
"Something's wrong." The words slipped out of Harry's mouth before he could stop them.  
  
Sirius looked at him sharply as Hermione disappeared out of sight into the yard of the house, and felt a churn of terrible foreboding.  
  
It took an unusually long time for Hermione to ring the doorbell, a space of seconds that the four male occupants of the room spent staring at each other in silence, apprehension and concern filling every single pair of eyes.  
  
When the chime rang through the house at last, Remus was the first to recover and hurry to the door.  
  
"Hermione?" he called gently as he reached the door. "That you?"  
  
No response.  
  
Sirius felt his heart pounding, and with almost agonizing slowness, Remus unlatched the bolt of the front door and pulled it open.  
  
With the lights of the country house shining around her, they could see Hermione clearly now, and the sight before them filled them with shock, fear and horror - the kind that they'd never thought they'd feel again.  
  
Her trunk bobbed at her feet lightly, but her Muggle clothes - jeans and tee shirt - were soiled and ripped in places. Her hair, which hadn't been bushy for a while, was a tousled mess, a few locks caked with dark red that looked terrifyingly like -  
  
Blood.  
  
Sirius's mind began to spin. It was there, on her face, a slash of blood across her forehead, oozing a trickle down the side of her face, down past the black-and-blue bruise surrounding her right eye and onto her neck, where bruises and cuts seemed to have created their playground. There were patches of dirt and blood on her clothes as well, especially on her jeans . . .  
  
// No, // some hoarse cry exploded somewhere in Sirius's chest, // Please, no! //  
  
She just stood there, blinking in the sudden light like a deer caught in the headlights of a car, and they stood frozen, unable to believe what they were seeing. Only the paleness of Ron's face, the darkness of Harry's green eyes and the stark horror in Remus's normally mild gray eyes told Sirius that they were seeing exactly what he saw.  
  
They were only able to react when Crookshanks leaped eagerly into Sirius's limp arms, at the same moment that Hermione's eyes and legs gave way and she fell to the ground in a dead faint . . .  
  
***  
  
When Hermione opened her eyes again, Ron and Harry were beside her, Ron stroking her cleaned hair gently while Harry held her hand tightly. Remus knelt on the carpet beside the couch, wiping her face and forehead gently with a damp napkin and gauze bandages, not wanting to cast any healing charm until she was fully conscious.  
  
As her eyelids flickered open, she seemed to see Sirius, standing nearby, a turmoil going on inside him, first.  
  
"Pad - Padfoot?" she croaked, her soft mouth lifting slightly in a smile. "Hey."  
  
He couldn't speak; he found his throat was suddenly too tight.  
  
Luckily, Harry and Ron managed to take over from him and gently assured Hermione everything was all right. Slowly, a haunted, hunted look stole into her eyes and as she tried, feebly, to tell them that she'd just fallen over and that nothing serious had happened to her, that look in her brown eyes was enough to confirm Sirius's worst fears.  
  
Rooted to the spot, he found he couldn't move and couldn't speak - and it was only when she finally fell asleep - partly due to a draught Remus conjured up for her - that he rediscovered his faculties.  
  
"That's bullshit." He bit out, his voice shaking.  
  
They looked at him. "What is?" Harry asked softly.  
  
"She - telling us that nothing happened - she can't admit it - it's not true." It was amazing; he thought wryly, how much it hurt to know what had happened to one of the few people he truly cared about.  
  
"You've seen the signs before, haven't you, Padfoot?" Remus asked him gently. "You know as well as I do what really happened."  
  
"And what did happen?" Harry's voice was slow, as if he dreaded hearing the answer. Ron's eyes remained fixed to Hermione's pale, silent, closed face.  
  
Sirius swallowed hard. "She - she was - " he couldn't say it " - violated."  
  
"WHAT?" Ron leaped up in rage. "Are you telling me she was RA - "  
  
"Shh, Ron!" Harry snapped. "She'll wake up."  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"I'm afraid Sirius is right," Remus nodded, and Sirius, through his burning anguish, saw a glimmer of tears in the other wizard's eyes. "I can't exactly give you medical proof, and it's a real pity we have no other female companion here right now, but I don't think it would wise to call anyone or get anyone else involved. It would only, under the circumstances, hurt or humiliate Hermione further."  
  
Ron and Harry were silent for a long moment, both obviously struggling with the shock of it. Then -  
  
"This is wrong. This is so damned wrong. She didn't deserve this!" Harry sounded like he was fighting back something powerful, and Sirius understood how he felt and managed to reach out and squeeze his godson's shoulder. Then Harry added: "Was it a wizard?" His voice was barely above a whisper. "Or a Muggle?"  
  
"Wizard, I'd say," Remus said shrewdly, voicing Sirius's open opinion. "She's much to powerful to not be able to overcome a Muggle, even without the use of her wand, but an armed wizard - " he paused and then said quietly, " - he obviously tracked her specifically; she was a target. Not many wizards roam this area, so if one got close enough to Hermione, that only means - "  
  
"It was planned. She knows him."  
  
Sirius was surprised at the sound of his own voice. Never before had he heard it sound so quiet, yet so full of intense anger and emotion.  
  
They all looked at each other, all thinking the same thing. Finally, it was Ron who managed to find the heart to voice it:  
  
"I guess that leaves only one question and another thing for us to do for her," his tone was flat, almost dead. "Which of our many magical male buddies is he?"  
  
** TBC.  
  
**  
  
A/N: I don't know whether people expected this, and I hope that this chapter wasn't a disappointment. To those who objected to the 'fluff' in the previous chapter, it was just there to set a scene, and sometimes, a little fluff is needed to lighten up what might otherwise be depressing. Anyway, thanks a lot to everyone who reviewed and please continue! Enjoy the story!  
  
By the way, I read OOTP long before I wrote this, so this is actually A/U (Poor Sirius, *sob*!) 


	3. Watch the Woods Fill Up With Snow

Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter", etc, etc, etc. It all belongs to J.K Rowling, except for stuff you don't recognize.  
  
Summary: Some wounds may never heal . . .  
  
**  
  
*  
  
~ Miles To Go Before I Sleep  
  
- Chapter Three: Watch The Woods Fill Up With Snow  
  
*  
  
**  
  
" - Can't believe this happened; why her, for Merlin's sake?"  
  
"D'you think she can handle waking up and changing herself? I mean, none of us can exactly - "  
  
"Point received, Ron, thanks."  
  
"Uh - what about Sirius, Prof - dammit - Remus? He was pretty shaken up. Do - do you think he got any sleep last night?"  
  
Pause.  
  
"I don't think so, but - well - none of us did, did we? Padfoot just stayed by the bed we moved her to and kept an eye on her - I only wonder how we're all going to deal with this, how SHE'S going to be able to - "  
  
Sirius squeezed his weary eyes shut and then opened them again. He could hear them all too clearly, standing outside the room Hermione was using in the late hours of the morning, each worrying about their victimized friend and now, apparently, him too.  
  
He turned his head to look back at her, lying still on the bed, curled up under the covers with a slightly troubled look on her face. He was grateful that at least she was being spared the nightmares, but everything in him ached for what she must be feeling, and how she was going to handle things when she woke up -  
  
Once she was recovering, though, Sirius would be out of here like a curse, in search of the man who had done this to her.  
  
"Mmmph."  
  
He started, and leaned forward to take her hand and squeeze it gently. "Hermione?" he prompted softly, wondering if she was about to wake.  
  
And then, her eyes opened.  
  
"Wow," she murmured in a painfully soft voice, blinking slowly at him with thick lashes, "This seems to have become a habit of greeting, Sirius."  
  
"Hey, 'Mione," he smiled down at her. "How're you feeling?"  
  
"Feeling . . ." that seemed to jerk her back to the reality, and Sirius watched as she remembered, as those eyes filled again with that haunted shadow that made his heart break and made him want to break something else.  
  
He swallowed. "Do you - do you want to see Harry, or Ron? Or Remus?"  
  
"Sure." She shrugged weakly, trying to sit up. "But - but I'd rather have a shower and change first."  
  
Crookshanks, curled up on Sirius's lap, purred in distress and tried to leap over to his mistress, but Sirius kept him at bay, knowing that the last thing Hermione needed was overwhelming affection.  
  
He stood up. "We'll get some food ready while you change," he offered. "If you need anything - "  
  
"I know where to come for it." She finished with a crooked smile. "Don't worry about me, Sirius. I'm - I'll be fine."  
  
"'Course you will."  
  
He turned away quickly and headed for the door, afraid that the tears that were clogging his throat might surface. By the time he reached the living room outside, however, anger had become his blanketing emotion again.  
  
The three in the room turned around at the sound of Hermione's door closing.  
  
"Well?" Ron jumped up. "How is she?"  
  
"As well as can be expected." Sirius said quietly. "Take it easy, Ron."  
  
Ron scowled. "I hate it when people say 'as well as can be expected'. You sound like Mum."  
  
"Thanks for the warning."  
  
Harry and Remus looked at Sirius closely. "Are you all right, Padfoot?" Remus asked gently. "You look tired, and rather - "  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
"Everyone says that." Ron pointed out irrepressibly, but subsided at a warning glare from Harry, who then stood up and asked Sirius whether Hermione was showering and whether they should all get some breakfast ready (none of them had eaten). Sirius nodded, and followed them numbly to the kitchen.  
  
What lay in store for them all, he wondered, if Hermione couldn't get past the horror of what she'd experienced? Little as they might want to admit it, she was a rock that kept them all grounded, especially Harry and Ron in their wilder moments, and she had a moralistic, responsible streak that even Remus sometimes couldn't match. What would they do without their Hermione with them?  
  
And what about her? How was she supposed to live through each day with the demons shadowing and haunting her, terror striking her at every unfamiliar corner when she wondered whether her attacker was waiting around the curb . . .?  
  
Sirius's jaw clenched with anger, and he barely noticed what he was doing as he helped Remus by chopping tomatoes.  
  
What would it do to her to find another piece of herself dying each day as she withdrew further and further into her self-protective shell? Sirius knew that it was up to them to make life as normal as possible for her, and keep her alive as best they could, but wasn't their a limit to how much they could do? He hated it; feeling so helpless and angry; but he didn't have a choice - not yet anyway.  
  
She was like a forest, he thought with a slightly bitter smile, a beautiful forest that had grown and protected for years, and was now the victim of an onslaught of danger and demons, being suffocated and buried under a torrent of snow . . .  
  
"Hi."  
  
The sound of her voice, soft and tentative, made him jerk out of his thoughts and whirl around to see her standing in the doorway of the kitchen. Remus at once flashed her a warm smile and asked her whether she wanted bacon or ham, and Ron, with surprising swiftness, began describing to her the full recovery of his broken arm (a subject that seemed to divert her somewhat) but Sirius once again found himself speechless, and heard Harry exhale sharply beside him.  
  
She looked so vulnerable and small, clad in pajamas that were a size too big for her, her hair flopping around her face aimlessly. In her arms was a teddy bear.  
  
Harry headed over to the table and sat down as Remus served bacon around. Sirius sank into one of the chairs as well, and glanced at Hermione once more before trying to listen to the conversation they were having.  
  
"Personally, I don't see what Harry ever saw in Cho," Ron was saying with utter conviction. "She was plain stupid, and rather disloyal, if you ask me."  
  
"Luckily, Ron, I don't think Harry was asking you."  
  
Ron grinned at Remus. "All right, fair point. But, Harry," he added quickly, "She was pretty bad-looking."  
  
"Oh, she was all right." Hermione put in, surprising them all. Her voice was still rather timid, however, and it caused Sirius a pang to think of what she was going through.  
  
Harry 'hah'-ed triumphantly. "Well, at least someone agrees with me." He declared. "Not," he added hurriedly, "That I still like her at all!"  
  
"Fleur's still the best." Ron declared, and Remus and Harry both began to laugh; Ron was so predictable.  
  
Hermione snorted. "Sure she is, Ron." She said with a slight edge of sarcasm. "She's just the peach of them all."  
  
They all laughed at that, but Sirius knew something was wrong the instant Ron shot back good-naturedly with: "And I suppose VICKY was the best of choices, eh?"  
  
Something - Sirius couldn't describe what it was - flickered in Hermione's eyes and they suddenly went dead, but not before he saw the flash of pain cross her features. His heart stopped. Maybe Hermione was still sensitive about her breakup with the Bulgarian Quidditch player, but then again, Sirius had never found out exactly WHY they'd broken up.  
  
He shook his head. It was impossible. How could it be - ?  
  
"Sirius?" Harry frowned at him. Obviously, if the others had sensed anything as well, they weren't showing it. "Something wrong?"  
  
"Too much salt." He quickly swallowed his bacon, although it felt like a stone squeezing down his throat, and stared furiously down at his plate.  
  
Hermione didn't speak up again for the rest of breakfast.  
  
And Sirius, helpless and angry, could do nothing but watch the woods fill up with snow.  
  
** TBC.  
  
**  
  
A/N: Chapter Four will be up as soon as I can get some time to write! Thanks so much for reviewing so far, and please keep on doing so! Enjoy! 


	4. Confrontation

Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter", etc, etc, etc. It all belongs to J.K Rowling, except for stuff you don't recognize.  
  
Summary: Some wounds may never heal . . .  
  
**  
  
*  
  
~ Miles To Go Before I Sleep  
  
- Chapter Four: Confrontation  
  
*  
  
**  
  
The house in the country was quiet on a warm Wednesday morning. Hermione and Remus had gone out, Remus having coaxed her into accompanying him to Diagon Alley to pick up the teenagers' school stuff for their last year at Hogwarts. Sirius had left earlier in the morning as well, without any explanation as to where he was going.  
  
Ron, waking up rather late and finding the house in a state of unusual silence, stumbled out of the room he was sharing with Harry only to find his best friend sitting on the couch with his History of Magic essay almost completely finished in front of him. Before Ron had a chance to tease Harry about being uncommonly studious, Harry gave him a rather startling piece of news.  
  
"He's doing WHAT?" Ron's eyes bulged in incredulity. "Say that again."  
  
"Giving Hermione therapy," Harry repeated calmly. "It's not easy work, but while Sirius has been disappearing mysteriously, Remus has been studying psychiatry and trauma - that's a Muggle branch of . . . uh . . . medicine, in a way. It's supposed to help 'Mione face the shock of what happened to her and deal with it so that she can recover and move on."  
  
Ron looked skeptical. "Can Lupin really manage it, Harry?"  
  
"I dunno," Harry was a little concerned, but had no doubt in Remus's abilities. "He's always been pretty good with the therapy bit, and although Sirius's been helping her a lot; talking to her and all, you know, he says that Remus was the most sensitive and perceptive of the Marauders and that he's probably the best candidate for the psychiatrist position right now."  
  
"I just hope it helps." Ron sighed, sinking down into an armchair. "I can't stand seeing her the way she is now; so nervous and withdrawn, jumping about a foot in the air at the sound of the door slamming or getting so detached that she doesn't even hear a thunderstorm - " his voice broke. "It's just not our Hermione, Harry."  
  
"I know, Ron." Harry sighed heavily, looking down at the History of Magic essay that Hermione would no doubt have finished had she been fully functional right now. "I do know."  
  
***  
  
"I was wondering," Remus said in a friendly, gentle voice, keeping Sirius's words in mind. "Whether you might like one of these." He pretended to fumble in his pocket.  
  
Hermione looked perplexed. "You didn't have to get me anything, Remus," she protested in the soft voice she used these days.  
  
They were walking down the lane back to the house. Hermione had gotten very edgy and distressed at a certain point near the bushes and Remus had made due note of it, reminding himself to tell Sirius when he got back. Now they were almost at the house, and it was time to turn the close conversation to the night of Hermione's -  
  
Remus sighed. He couldn't even think it.  
  
"Never mind that," he chuckled, retrieving the objects. "I got them free with the birthday present we picked out for Tonks. Here - would you like this?" he held out a realistic-looking, power-stuffed snake that actually reared its head and hissed.  
  
Hermione smiled as the snake did so. Remus watched her closely and saw no flicker of pain or anguish in her face, and was rather glad when she did take the snake. "This is really cute," she said, smiling her thanks at him. "Kinda reminds me of Malfoy or Snape, though." She wrinkled her nose, and Remus laughed.  
  
// Two down, // he thought to himself.  
  
"This is one more," he held up, with a grin, the figure of a giant-like figure with a hairy beard slightly like Hagrid's. "I thought I'd give it to Ron; I know how much he'd like to tease Hagrid with it."  
  
Hermione laughed softly, and shortly, but it was a laugh. "Where did you get all this stuff, really?" she asked. "I can't believe you got that giant figure free with magical perfume!"  
  
"Guilty." Remus chuckled. "I hope Ron likes it. Oh, and this is the last," he carefully detached a toy broomstick that really flew from his pile and extended it to her. "Would you like this?"  
  
There.  
  
Hermione's face went pale, and Remus could have sword her body shook involuntarily. Then she seemed to inhale and exhale deeply and finally spoke rather hoarsely: "I - I'd rather not - have that, thanks." She whispered.  
  
Remus tucked the broomstick away out of sight and Hermione visibly relaxed. His thoughts grew troubled, but he smiled reassuringly at her. "I'm sure Harry will make some use of it," he commented.  
  
When they were almost at the house, Remus sighed and asked her quietly, "Hermione, we kno what happened to you that night."  
  
She looked up at him. "I don't know what you're talking about." She said flatly.  
  
"'Mione," Remus gave her a retiring look. "I'm much too old and wise to be fooled by an age-old response like that."  
  
The tears filled her eyes quickly, making him stop in his tracks, almost regretting bringing it up, but he had to stick with it. She blinked her tears away, and shook her head. "I don't want to talk about it. You weren't supposed to know. I don't care anymore. It's over."  
  
"Not until you can get past it," he said sharply. "Hermione, you of all people should know that burying trauma will only make it rear its ugly head one day when you least expect it. You need to hash it out and KILL the damn pain."  
  
She shook her head again. "I can't." she whispered. "He'll - he'll - "  
  
"He'll what?" a voice demanded. "Come back and do it again? Over my dead body."  
  
Both Remus and Hermione whirled around to see Sirius standing just behind them in the lane, his jaw clenched like it so often was in recent days.  
  
"He's not going to get anywhere near you again, 'Mione." Sirius said, his voice lower and gentler now. "Trust me. Trust us; we're not going to let that happen."  
  
"But - " a tear trickled onto her cheek.  
  
"I checked, by the way," Sirius said with quiet intensity to Remus. "He is in town after all, and he's staying not too far from dear Grimmauld Place."  
  
By now, Harry and Ron, seeing the action in the lane outside the yard of the house, had hurried out.  
  
"Who is it?" Harry demanded.  
  
Hermione began to cry.  
  
"Krum." Sirius spat out. "Wasn't it, Remus?"  
  
"Yes," Remus sighed. "I gave her the snake to represent Malfoy, or a Slytherin, but she didn't mind it. The troll, to represent the giant - Hagrid's brother Grawp - wasn't a problem either - "  
  
"Pardon?" Harry's jaw dropped.  
  
"You thought GRAWP might have - you actually - how would he - I'm sorry, but Grawp is a giant and therefore there's no way he could have fit - "  
  
"Thank you, Ron, that's enough detail, I assure you."  
  
Racking sobs began to descend over Hermione's body and the two teenagers and Remus stopped talking. Remus looked torn, and Harry and Ron glanced at each other, distressed, but Sirius uttered something that sounded like a low growl and moved forward to slide his arms around Hermione.  
  
"It's okay, 'Mione," he murmured softly, his eyes anguished. "I'm right here. Krum's not going to get anywhere near you."  
  
As Hermione began to calm down, Remus said quietly to Harry and Ron: "When I showed her the toy broomstick, she panicked. That hit the target, because only there are only two people in the world that she really associates with broomsticks - Krum, and you, Harry."  
  
The two boys nodded, and Ron shook his head bitterly. "I can't believe I ever had a miniature figure of him." He spat on the ground disgustedly.  
  
Harry was equally enraged, but, he saw as Sirius finally let go of Hermione and she sat down on the grass of the yard rather wearily, his anger was nothing compared to his godfather's.  
  
"She's still afraid he'll be back." Sirius said to them harshly. "She won't be able to get past anything until she knows for sure that there's no way he'll ever come back."  
  
"Well, if we tell the Ministry about this, maybe they'll lock him up in Azkaban." Ron suggested hopefully.  
  
Hermione softly uttered 'No!' did not go unnoticed. It was clear that not only being terrified, she was humiliated by what had happened, even thought it hadn't been her fault.  
  
"I doubt that." Sirius shook his head bitterly.  
  
"What do you mean?" Harry looked at him quickly, and Sirius, looking at him and then at Remus, sensed his best friend's question all too well.  
  
He shook his head. "Think about it, Harry. There are millions of people out there who idolize Viktor Krum and the way he plays. Do you think the Ministry will be willing to risk losing popularity by locking up one of the world's favorite Quidditch players?"  
  
"Merlin's beard." Ron groaned. He swore.  
  
"Well said." Sirius cracked a grin, then glancing in concern at Hermione, who seemed lost in her own mind again, rocking back and forth slightly on the grass. Straining his ears, he thought he heard her singing softly under her breath, and felt his heart ache for her.  
  
"So what can we do then?" Ron demanded, and Harry nodded. "How do we make sure she knows he won't be coming back? She certainly won't believe that just our protection will keep her safe - "  
  
"Despite the fact that Sirius seems willing to perform the Avada Kadavra curse on Krum," Harry added shrewdly.  
  
Remus's brow furrowed.  
  
"We're just going to have to make sure he definitely won't be coming back at all." Sirius growled with such deadly intent that not one of them doubted he meant his words, and Hermione even glanced up from her stupor.  
  
"Padfoot," Remus spoke up now quietly, "You can't - "  
  
"Can't what?" Ron demanded, lost at sea as usual.  
  
"Look at her!" Sirius muttered angrily. "Look what he's done to her. Don't tell me you'd feel in the least bit sorry for him, Remus, because I know that's bull."  
  
"No, but, Sirius, think about what might happen to you!"  
  
"I DON'T CARE!"  
  
Harry and Ron started, but Remus merely smiled slightly. "Nicely done, Padfoot," he said softly. "I think you've just proven what I've suspected for a while now."  
  
Sirius was unnerved.  
  
"What on earth is going on?" Ron wanted to know.  
  
Harry nodded. "Yes, I'm rather keen on an answer."  
  
Hermione stood up abruptly. "I'm going to have a shower," she stated slowly, in a slightly louder voice than usual. It had become habit for her to have showers regularly in the day, almost as if she was trying to wash away the memories. "I'll see you at lunch."  
  
They watched her silently as she disappeared into the house.  
  
Remus turned to Sirius. "I can't stop you from doing what you have to do," he said quietly, "But I have one favor to ask, Sirius."  
  
"You don't mean - " Harry was shocked.  
  
"What do you want me to do, Moony?" Sirius asked Remus.  
  
Remus's eyes glittered in a very dangerous way, a way that neither Harry nor Ron had ever seen in him before, but had seen in Sirius.  
  
"Tell him I send my regards as well."  
  
** TBC.  
  
**  
  
A/N: Please review and let me know what you guys think of this chapter, and thanks for reading and reviewing so far. Enjoy the story! 


	5. Marauder's Revenge

Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter", etc, etc, etc. It all belongs to J.K Rowling, except for stuff you don't recognize.  
  
Summary: Some wounds may never heal . . .  
  
Note: Most of this chapter will take place in Hermione's first person point of view. I'm sorry if it gets confusing, but I'll tell you that '//' means memory (in this chapter).  
  
**  
  
*  
  
~ Miles To Go Before I Sleep  
  
- Chapter Five: Marauder's Revenge  
  
*  
  
**  
  
- Hermione -  
  
The water is a flood of hot needles blazing down on my bare skin as I stand here, silently, in the shower. The soap is foaming in my hand, the smell of clean atmosphere surrounds me, but I know it must be a lie.  
  
I'm dirty. Oh God, I'm so filthy, why can't I just become clean again? I keep showering, I keeping rubbing, keep cleaning . . . it's still there; the stains are still so clear, oh God, help me!  
  
// You'll miss me when I go, Herm-own-ninny, why don't you admit that you want this? //  
  
No! He's here! I know he's here! His voice is so close, so soft, so dangerous! Get him out of my head; I want him out of me!  
  
It hurts, oh God, that hurts. Stop! Stop doing this, Viktor, please, leave me alone! GET OUT OF MY HEAD!  
  
I turn off the shower, trying to calm down, knowing that I'm hyperventilating, knowing that the fresh droplets on my skin are not water, but cold sweat. They'll hear me if I let this get through my voice; they'll hear my screams if I'm not careful, and I know Ron won't hesitate to burst through the door.  
  
Poor Ron, and Harry too. They're so confused and so worried about me; I can see it their eyes, hear it in their voices. I wish I could talk about this, I wish I could bring myself to utter the words and the pain. Maybe then Remus can help me get past this; he's trying so hard to help me. And Sirius . . . oh I wish Sirius was here right now - well, maybe not RIGHT now, but once I get my clothes on . . . or maybe not . . .  
  
That's right, 'Mione, keep thinking about nice things like talking to Remus or playing chess with Harry and Ron or being around Sirius . . . yeah, think about Sirius, it helps.  
  
I'm putting on my tee shirt, finding my jeans . . . they're not the same jeans, thank God, I don't want to remember, I don't want to remember what happened . . . oh, God I'm thinking about it again . . .  
  
// Did you really think you'd escape me so easily? //  
  
Are those my sobs I hear through his voice, torturing me? Get out of my head, yu bastard, I want to be free of you! Where's a knife? Where's my wand? I want to die, I want to escape, I want to know you won't come back for me!  
  
// I'm coming, Herm-own-ninny . . . //  
  
No! Get out, get out, you're not here, you're not coming! Oh God, please don't let him be coming . . . I know he's coming . . . I feel him, pushing, pushing into me . . . stop, save me, kill me, Harry, Ron, Remus, kill me, I want to stop the pain! Sirius! Help me . . . save me . . . Sirius . . . SIRIUS!  
  
I'm burying my face in the pillow and sobbing out loud now. Stop it, Hermione; they'll hear you and they'll only be more upset. Don't you have any consideration for what they must be feeling; stop thinking about yourself!  
  
// Think about me instead . . . //  
  
NOOOOOO!!!!  
  
I want him out of my head! Oh Sirius, Sirius, where are you? Please save me, help me . . . God, please kill me. I just want this to stop! I want him to stop; I want to know he won't be coming back! I want Sirius here . . . oh God . . . it hurts, the blood . . . the pain . . . help me!  
  
Hide, Hermione. Forget about what Remus said and crawl back into the fantasies of your mind again so that you can live your own dreams and forget all about the bastard and what he's done . . . hide again, 'Mione, it's your only hope!  
  
I don't want to hide, but there's nothing else . . . nowhere else . . . I'm sinking back into the dreams . . . slipping away again . . . losing myself . . . losing me . . .  
  
- END Hermione -  
  
***  
  
Sirius knocked sharply on the door, the pounding of the blood in his ears suddenly very silent and his head very clear. There was no one to stop him from doing this, for his friends, for himself, and most of all - for Hermione.  
  
The door opened.  
  
A surly, aquiline face stared back at Sirius, blinking in the dim dusk light. Viktor Krum's brow furrowed and he questioned confusedly: "Black? Sirius Black?"  
  
"I see you know me, Krum," Sirius said coldly, walking past the boy into the small dingy apartment - a strange place for a famous, rich wizard to be staying . . . unless he had things to hide - Sirius tried very hard to control his temper. "Well done."  
  
"Who doesn't know you?" Krum's Bulgarian accent was still present in his voice, but had been diminished noticeably in the past three years spent in England. "You - you were also a friend of Herm-own-ninny's, were you not?"  
  
"Actually," Sirius turned around to face the boy and noticed with some savage pleasure that Krum had done him a favor and already made sure the windows were closed and the blinds were drawn. "Herm-own-ninny, as you so endearingly call her, is what I came here to talk about, Krum. You haven't seen her recently, have you?"  
  
Krum shrugged sullenly. "Not recently." He said, but he kept shooting Sirius oddly furtive, suspicious looks, and Sirius caught a satisfying shred of apprehension.  
  
"You're a liar."  
  
"Pardon?" Krum blinked, feigning innocence.  
  
"Your little signature, Mr. Krum? The broomstick? Did you really believe that, no matter what trauma you put her into, none of us would figure out who the culprit was? I know what you did to her, you bastard, you - " Sirius broke off, his voice shaking with anger. "Do YOU know what you've done to her?" he asked in a deadly whisper that didn't quite conceal his own pain.  
  
Krum shook his head. "You're mad. You're a murderer, hell, of course you're mad. What the fuck did I do to her?"  
  
"Careful, Krum, you're confessing in your own swear words." Sirius spat.  
  
"Are you suggesting I raped Herm-own-ninny?" Krum's eyes widened in a very unconvincing manner.  
  
Sirius clenched his fists. "Yeah, that's exactly what I'm telling you, Krum."  
  
"Guess what, Black?" Krum's lips now twitched in a very amused, cruel manner that made Sirius's blood reach an unbearably hot limit. "You hit the nail right on the head, but guess what also? There's nothing you can do about it. She'll always remember me, and always be tainted by me, and no matter what you do, you can't take that pain away from her."  
  
The fact that he was right - that Sirius really couldn't take the stain away from Hermione - only made him angrier, and that was Krum's final mistake. He seemed to have forgotten, in his apparent knowledge of Sirius's habits, that Sirius was perhaps one of the most reckless, violent wizards to grace the country.  
  
And that side of the 'murderer's' personality surfaced.  
  
Sirius pulled out his wand. "I'm not inhuman, Krum," he said quietly, his voice vibrating with intense emotion, "But you - for what you did to her - you deserve the worst forms of torture. CRUCIO!"  
  
Before Krum could react, he began screaming, under the terrible agony and influence of the Cruciatus curse. His body crumpled to the ground, writhing and twisting horribly, and Sirius did nothing but stand there, unable to feel even the slightest regret or pity for the cruel, sadistic young man lying in pain at his feet.  
  
Finally, he broke the curse, and Krum's heavy, hoarse panting filled the room as his screams died down.  
  
"I can only hope," Sirius said, his voice suddenly flat and his eyes burning, "That Remus, Harry and Ron can be satisfied with this much earthly torture, and that James is waiting to deal with you as well."  
  
"James?" Krum croaked, looking up at Sirius with horror. "No - you can't - "  
  
"Avada Kadavra." Sirius whispered, looking away as he pointed his wand at Krum's scrambling form.  
  
A second later, Hermione, without knowing it yet, was free of the demons that threatened to haunt her again.  
  
Viktor Krum was dead.  
  
***  
  
- Hermione -  
  
I can hear their voices outside the room. I just woke up; I don't know why, but something woke me up. I was hoping it was Sirius, but he isn't hear, and I can't hear him outside. But the others are there, talking quietly in the living room.  
  
"Why didn't we tell Ginny or Tonks?" Ron was asking, sounding confused, as usual. "They would have wanted to know, I'm sure, and maybe Hermione would have liked to talk to someone female - "  
  
I cringe. The last thing I want is anyone else to know what happened. Oh God, why did I let it happen? What if he comes back? What if it happens again? Oh God . . .  
  
Listen to them, 'Mione, it'll distract you!  
  
"Why, Ron," Harry teases rather weakly, "That's impressive sensitivity, coming from you."  
  
Remus chuckled, but it was very brief. His voice speaks up again, sober and quiet: "There's no need to involve any more people. I doubt 'Mione would like it, and we can spare Ginny and Tonks the worry."  
  
"Yeah, that's probably best." I can almost see Ron nodding in agreement.  
  
"Do you think - ?"  
  
Harry's question is cut off by the sound of the front door opening and slamming. My heart leaps - it has to be Sirius!  
  
Then I feel a sudden cold wave of fear. Could it be - ?  
  
No! It can't! Padfoot, say something! Let me know it's you.  
  
"Sirius!" it's Remus, sounding both relieved and weary. "Thank God. Are you all right."  
  
I'm almost faint with relief myself. Sinking back onto the bed, I feel safer again, almost like Sirius's presence in the house makes me feel safe. I wish he was here with me; maybe he'll come. I stroke Crookshanks's fur absent-mindedly.  
  
"I'm fine." He bites out, sounding slightly tired as well as oddly relieved.  
  
There's a tense pause. Then Ron and Harry both begin: "Did you - ?" and then they both stop together. Another pause. Harry speaks at last: "Is he - ?"  
  
"He's dead." Sirius says, and my heart thuds against my rib cage. Who are they talking about? "He won't be coming back for her ever again. She can be told that he's gone."  
  
Dear God . . . did he - did Sirius kill Viktor? Is that what he means? Oh my God, is he really gone? He won't be back?  
  
The pain . . . will the pain finally stop?  
  
"I think you should tell her," Remus is saying, and although his voice is low and calm, I can almost sense a slight twinge of satisfaction in it. Revenge, they say, is sweet. And by the tones of Harry and Ron's voices as they agree, I can see that whoever said that was right.  
  
So Sirius is coming in here now?  
  
"Wait."  
  
Sirius's footsteps stop. "What is it, Moony?" he asks quietly.  
  
"What - what happens to you now, Padfoot?"  
  
"Only time will tell, Moony, only time will tell."  
  
Time . . . what a strange concept that is. I know Sirius will probably go to his room first and stare into the mirror for a long time, trying to find himself again, because it isn't everyday you kill a man. I don't know how I know this, but I always felt like Padfoot and I had some kind of connection. So I know it'll be a few minutes before he comes here.  
  
I stare at the carpet, my eyes unseeing. People say time heals all wounds, and I guess if you can't count on time, there's always love to fall back on. And I know that there are people who really love me in this world . . . Harry, Ron, Ginny, Remus . . . Sirius? Does Sirius love me, I wonder? Would a man who didn't love me kill the boy who hurt me so badly?  
  
My God . . . I love him.  
  
But time - will time heal my wounds? Will Sirius heal them? Already I can feel the pain ebbing away from me, but it's still there? Viktor being dead, it's going to be a long time before I can accept that fact, really believe he's not going to return . . . it seems so unreal even now. Like the escape I dreamed of when I wanted to pain to stop.  
  
Maybe this pain will eventually stop, and it won't be time alone to do that. Friendship . . . and love - if I truly can have that love that I so badly need and want now - will do most of the erasing, and the rebuilding of who I was . . . who I am.  
  
Thank you, Sirius. Thank you for giving me my salvation.  
  
Am I asking too much to ask for your love?  
  
Yes, Viktor's now dead, as they've said. But I'm no fool. I know my wounds aren't going to become fallen scabs immediately, and I know I might keep bleeding for a while . . . hurting, remembering. But there is hope. A ray of golden light shining through wolf-like warmth, green eyes, red hair - and Sirius.  
  
But my journey to becoming me again isn't complete. I won't be able to forget the pain or the horror of it all for a long time, and I don't think I can do it alone. Even then, until I do, I won't be able to rest. I have a shattered life to rebuild, and miles to go before I sleep.  
  
** TBC.  
  
**  
  
A/N: I hope this chapter wasn't too confusing. I hope you guys liked it and that you're enjoying the story. Chapter 6 will be up soon. Thanks a lot for all the reviews you guys have given me - they've really helped and thanks to everyone who gave me ideas! Please keep reviewing, and I'll keep writing! Stay tuned. 


	6. Leaving

Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter", etc, etc, etc. It all belongs to J.K Rowling, except for stuff you don't recognize.  
  
Summary: Some wounds may never heal . . .  
  
**  
  
*  
  
~ Miles To Go Before I Sleep  
  
- Chapter Six: Leaving  
  
*  
  
**  
  
Their trunks were packed, Hedwig and Pidwidgeon's cages had been cleaned the Owl and Cat Treats had been bought. Ginny had called the house to tell them she would meet them at Platform 9 ¾ by quarter to eleven.  
  
Hermione emerged from her room with Crookshanks in her arms, feeling a mixture of apprehension and new hope for this school year. Remus and Sirius weren't going to be at Hogwarts, admittedly, but Remus had promised her the previous night that they would visit the grounds and Hogsmeade often.  
  
She flashed a smile at Harry, who was fighting to thrust Pig into his cage, and he grinned back. At that moment, Ron stumbled out of the room he had shared with Harry, tripping over his jeans somehow and cursing violently. Remus followed, looking rather amused and tired.  
  
"Honestly, Ron, can't you even pack without causing some kind of disturbance?" the werewolf demanded, shaking his head. His eyes fell on Hermione, whom Ron had just greeted. "Hey, 'Mione. Things going smoothly?"  
  
She knew they were still worried about her, and she wished they wouldn't be. Maybe it still hurt, and maybe she still felt those pangs of fear and flashes of memory, but she was getting better, and slowly becoming her old self. She chuckled. "I think I should be asking you that question," she frowned heavily at Ron. "You have dirt on your nose, Ron. Again."  
  
"Again?" he scowled indignantly, rubbing at his nose.  
  
"Don't you remember our first day at Hogwarts, when you arrived with dirt on your nose?" Hermione prompted, grinning.  
  
Harry laughed. "Yeah, and Hermione, if I remember right, pointed it out."  
  
"Not before Fred and George, though." Ron put in, and Hermione laughed, knowing he wasn't about to give her any satisfaction. Her smile faded, however, as she noticed the suddenly apprehensive and saddened expression on Remus's face, and following his gaze, she saw a large backpack sitting on the floor near their trunks.  
  
"Whose - ?" she broke off, her voice suddenly catching.  
  
Sirius chose that moment to walk out of his room, his fingers raking back his short black hair in a somewhat torn, frustrated manner.  
  
"Sirius's." Harry said quietly, glancing first at his godfather, who stared down at the floor after giving Hermione a quick once-over, and then at Remus.  
  
Hermione struggled to control her outburst, and failed. "What?" she shrieked, and then lowered her volume with great effort. "Where - where are you going?"  
  
"South, where I went when I hid with Buckbeak," Sirius responded barely audibly, seemingly unable to meet her eyes.  
  
Never before had her heart dropped like a stone the way it did right then. The overwhelming surge of sadness and sense of loss that struck her was quite startling, and she blinked, both shocked at the news and at her feelings. Of course, considering what she'd recently realized . . .  
  
"Why are you going?" she demanded, trying to keep her tone more angry than sad.  
  
He didn't reply. Ron shuffled his feet awkwardly, obviously having known about this beforehand as well, and shot a look at Harry.  
  
Finally, Remus, clearing his throat slightly, spoke up. "Hermione," he said rather hoarsely, "Sirius has to leave the country for a while. The news about Krum's death has gotten out; you've seen the papers and the wildfire news. It'll be the talk in the school for weeks. And Sirius's involvement will no doubt be a suspicion, seeing as Muggles probably saw him near the house that day and that the Ministry will know of Krum's - uh - crimes." (She winced)  
  
"But - " she stammered, glancing at him again, "Surely they won't - they can't prove - why would they - ?"  
  
"Sirius used two of the Unforgivable Curses," Remus tried to explain in as calm a voice as he could, "Normally, that would warrant a life sentence in Azkaban, if not execution because of who Krum was. But the Ministry isn't going to kill or lock away a man who saved so many lives during the battle against Voldemort, especially not if the man he killed was a rapist."  
  
"So then WHY?" she yelled, growing angrier and more despairing by the second. Life without Sirius . . . with him in danger . . . she gulped. She saw Harry blink sharply and look away, his green eyes oddly teary. Ron's ears were going red.  
  
Remus sighed. "There will be riots. There have already been riots and protests against what happened to Krum. The Ministry will at least have to put on a show of searching for the killer, and if anyone happens to run into Sirius anywhere, they won't hesitate to apprehend or curse a suspect in the Viktor Krum murder. Until this whole thing settles down and people stop talking or caring, it isn't safe for Sirius to be out in the open - or even in the country." He sighed again.  
  
"And how long will that be?" she asked, softly.  
  
Remus didn't respond. Instead, it was Ron, who looked up at her with real sympathy in his eyes and said: "They estimate maybe half a year. Maybe more."  
  
Hermione had to fight very hard to keep her legs steady. It was sheer agony to be away from Sirius for even a day, and she had been willing to put up with it in school just for the chance of seeing him every week at Hogsmeade - and now, hearing that it might be over six months before she might see him again (and who knew what might happen to any of them in six months!), it was almost too much for her battered heart to take.  
  
She shook her head silently, trying to blink back tears, and clutched Crookshanks tighter. Remus broke the silence with: "We should leave in about half an hour. I'm taking you guys to King's Cross."  
  
"When are you leaving?" Harry asked Sirius, looking rather upset.  
  
Sirius glanced up then, his jaw unclenching for a moment as he flashed Harry a weak smile. "In about ten minutes. Buckbeak's waiting in the yard. I borrowed him back from Hagrid."  
  
Hermione felt her fingers clench in Crookshanks' fur. For a moment, sheer panic assaulted her at the thought of losing him, but she fought it down and kept her face as rigid as she could, staring down at her cat as Harry and Ron both hugged Sirius and told him to be careful, and then Remus did the same, and spoke to him in a low voice about something she couldn't hear for a few minutes.  
  
Then, just when she thought she was going to break down and sob, she felt his presence beside her and had to look up, letting Crookshanks leap out of her arms. Her hands dropped limply to her sides as she met his deep brown eyes.  
  
"I'm sorry," he mumbled, looking as pained as she felt. "I don't want to leave - don't want to leave you - but Remus thinks I'm safer there - it's for the best - "  
  
"I understand," she said numbly, trying to keep her voice steady. "I don't want anything to happen to you. So - so I guess I'll see you - uh - soon. Probably next summer." She choked out, and then extended a shaking hand. "Take care of yourself, Sirius."  
  
He looked down at her hand, and suddenly she couldn't do it. She burst into tears and flung her arms around his neck. His arms automatically cradled her and she heard him saying something into her ear as he held her until she stopped crying.  
  
"I don't - want - you to - go." She whispered, wiping away the stray tears.  
  
His arms tightened around her for a moment before he let her go. "I'll be back soon." He promised with an edge of grim determination in his voice. "Count on that, 'Mione, I'm not going to be able to stay away from all of you - from you - for long."  
  
She looked at him as he took a step back, her heart strangely empty, her arms limp and lost by her sides again. "Promise?" she whispered, so softly that she wasn't sure he heard.  
  
"I promise."  
  
***  
  
She spent most of the train journey in silence. Ginny, always intuitive, sensed something was wrong and didn't press Hermione to chatter with the rest of them or play cards, and while Harry and Ron seemed a little worried and Ron came over to try and talk to Hermione as she sat curled up in a seat staring out of the window, she was grateful that none of them tried to coax her into doing anything.  
  
After a few hours, she began to listen to some of their conversation, and found herself almost smiling at what Ginny, Harry and Ron were talking about with Neville and Luna Lovegood.  
  
"I told my father, we should have gone after those Hungarian Wormflies, but he simply wouldn't listen," Luna was saying in her dreamy voice, shaking her head regretfully.  
  
"That must have been a bummer," Ron said gravely, keeping an admirably straight face. "No doubt these Wormflies are the real peaches of wizard life."  
  
Ginny stifled a giggle.  
  
"Wormflies?" Neville sounded confused. "What are Wormflies? Harry, what are Wormflies?"  
  
"Er - " he faltered, shooting a half-amused, half-panic stricken look at Hermione, who was looking at them now.  
  
"They're these huge, powerful creatures with wings that span twenty feet, of the clearest, most silvery silk and eyes that are scarlet slits and burn with flames that can hypnotize the mind and spout deadly fire that can kill any human instantly - " Luna rhapsodized, her eyes becoming glassy and dreamy, and Neville's eyes widened in horror.  
  
"They don't exist, Neville!" Hermione interjected, without even realizing it, reacting out of pure habit and shooting Luna a disbelieving look.  
  
Her friends all looked at her with surprise; only Luna seemed to have her normal reaction - one of indignation. "Well, just because your narrow mind . . . " she began for about the millionth time in their school years.  
  
"Quite, Luna." Ron hurriedly interposed. "Either way - "  
  
The compartment door opened, and Hermione registered only a weary resignation as Draco Malfoy swaggered in with his two cronies.  
  
"What do YOU want?" Harry demanded, narrowing his eyes at them. "Get out."  
  
"Careful, Potter, I don't see a Head Boy badge anywhere on your person," Malfoy wiggled his finger in an annoying manner.  
  
Ginny glared at him. "Don't see one on you either! I heard Terry Boot is Head Boy."  
  
"So, Granger? Are you Head Girl? Or were you bumped off for someone who doesn't look so much like a rabbit having a bad hair - sorry, fur - day?"  
  
This was normally enough to get Hermione's wand whipping out and performing a painful hex, but she barely heard him. She caught Harry and Ron exchanging a worried glance in her direction, and then the usual threats followed between Malfoy and Harry, and Harry finally chased them away with some help from Ron and of course, interjections from Neville.  
  
Harry came over to sit next to Hermione. "I'm sorry he left too," he said quietly.  
  
"I know you are, Harry." She sighed.  
  
"He'll be back, you know. He did promise. And a few months away will only make the heart grow fonder - there's some old saying somewhere - separation makes the soul - "  
  
"Absence makes the heart grow fonder." She corrected, smiling slightly despite herself.  
  
Harry grinned and patted her knee. "There you go, 'Mione. I knew your cheek muscles still worked." He winked and went back to his seat opposite Ron, giving her time to herself.  
  
Hermione watched him go and then looked out of the window. She was grateful for the friends she had and for the support they gave her, but sometimes, it just wasn't enough - especially when you were hurting and in love.  
  
// Oh Sirius, // she pleaded silently, // I need you. //  
  
** TBC.  
  
**  
  
A/N: Well, not much more to go, so please keep reviewing and letting me know what you guys think. Enjoy the story as it goes, and let me know if you think Sirius and Hermione will get together after all, or if he'll be able to return at all . . . ? 


	7. I Have Promises to Keep

Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter", etc, etc, etc. It all belongs to J.K Rowling, except for stuff you don't recognize. The poem "Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening" belongs to Robert Frost.  
  
Summary: Some wounds may never heal . . .  
  
**  
  
*  
  
~ Miles To Go Before I Sleep  
  
- Chapter Seven: I Have Promises To Keep  
  
*  
  
**  
  
"What'll it be today, Mr. Black? Uh - Mr. Black - James?"  
  
Sirius blinked sharply as the familiar voice jerked him out of his thoughts - deep thoughts in fact, ones that centered (as they always did) on Hermione. It had been four months since he'd left the country - four long, agonizing months with no Remus, no Harry - no her. God, but he missed her.  
  
He was in the local pub of the village near the cave where he had hidden the previous time. However, as this was a secluded little village with not many wizards living in it, he didn't need to hide in a cave this time and could live in the local inn. During his evenings, which he invariably spent trying to drown himself in Muggle drinks, he hung around the pub and had made friends with the bartender - another wizard.  
  
Of course, the villagers all knew the handsome man that wandered their streets as James Black.  
  
"Oh, hey, Derek," Sirius greeted the bartender, who was looking at him with some concern. "I'll - uh - have one of those Rum thingies."  
  
"Bacardi or Khodays?" Derek asked with a grin, and Sirius shook his head with a smirk; Derek knew perfectly well that Sirius didn't have a clue about the various brands of Muggle drink, even after four months in the village.  
  
He shrugged. "You take your pick," he said to the Muggle-born wizard, who chuckled and then frowned. Sirius sighed inwardly; he knew what was coming.  
  
"You still thinking about the girl, James?" Derek asked quietly. "The gorgeous kid in that photograph you have?"  
  
Sirius bristled. "She's not a KID, Derek." He said irritably, feeling slightly guilty despite himself. "She's a lot more mature than a normal seventeen-year-old, all right? And she's of age now, remember?"  
  
"Luckily for you."  
  
"We haven't even done anything!"  
  
"All right, James, don't hex me, I'm only joking." Derek grinned and then sobered up as he continued the polish the counter of the bar. "But look, if you miss her so damn much, why don't you write to her? I know you did something wrong, can't go back to England yet, but surely you can send her a letter?"  
  
"I can't," Sirius sighed heavily. "It - it hurts too much. I don't want to hurt her even more by writing now and getting her - and my - hopes up. Besides, she's thinking along the same lines and hasn't written either."  
  
"If you ask me, I'd say you're both stupid." Derek poured a whiskey for a customer who had just come up. Sirius shook his head and stared down at the counter miserably, aching to be with her and to hold her.  
  
Did he regret what he'd done? No - he considered it - he didn't. Agonizing as this was, if he had a chance to do it again, he would have still killed Krum for what he'd done . . .  
  
"Holy shit, what's that bird doing in here!"  
  
Sirius started at the male voice yelling behind him, and realized the customer was pointing at a tawny owl that had just swooped into the pub. Derek shot Sirius a quick look and then tried to distract the customer while Sirius felt a letter drop onto his head. The owl screeched and disappeared.  
  
He glanced around to make sure Derek had chased away the customer with his drink, and slowly, with trembling hands, unfolded the first letter he'd had from Remus in over a month.  
  
// Hey Padfoot,  
  
Forgive me for not writing for so long. Things have been happening here. Anyway, I finally have the update: things have settled down again. See attached article.  
  
Always, Moony //  
  
Sirius felt the first genuine grin flicker across his face as he read his best friend's familiar handwriting and then smoothed out the attached article from the 'Daily Prophet'. It featured a smiling young man with twinkling eyes and a big grin, waving energetically with one hand as the other held a Firebolt broomstick.  
  
- Seamus Fletcher, the new Seeker of the Bulgarian Quidditch team, earns instant fame and popularity after miraculous catch in the latest match between Bulgaria and Ireland. Fletcher, whose move rivaled that of 'Boy Who Lived' legend Harry Potter's, outstripped even the late Viktor Krum's 'Wronski Feint' and has justly earned Fletcher his rightful place in Quidditch history. Journalists strongly advise girls to get a move on before this boy is taken! -  
  
Something ignited in Sirius's heart as he stared down at the article in disbelief. To Derek or any other wizard, this article would mean very little (as Fletcher was probably on the wizarding news everywhere already), but Sirius knew exactly why Remus sent it to him and what great significance it had . . .  
  
"Oh, I saw that in the paper this morning," Derek commented, nodding at Sirius as he peeked at the article briefly. "Great player, that Fletcher. It's pretty much a good thing, I'd say, that Krum went when he did. The old boy was wearing out his popularity anyway."  
  
Sirius looked up into Derek's hazel eyes and would have hugged the man right then and there for his words.  
  
He leaped up off his stool.  
  
"James?" Derek looked surprised and puzzled. "What's wrong? Where're you going?"  
  
"Leaving, Derek. Leaving town!"  
  
"Bloody he - JAMES!" Derek was, understandably, startled. Sirius stopped and turned around to look back at the bartender. "Don't be reckless, James," Derek warned him. "You're beat. Why don't you get some rest here tonight and then leave in the morning?"  
  
Sirius chuckled, the yearning knot in his throat unknotting for the first time in months. "Have to decline, Derek," he said, shaking the other man's hand gratefully. "But thanks for everything. I'll get a haircut and have a shower when I'm back in England."  
  
Derek grinned suddenly. "Good luck, James Black."  
  
"Make that Sirius."  
  
The bartender didn't bat an eye. "Well then, Sirius Black. Take care of yourself, all right? I think I know why you're in such a hurry."  
  
Sirius smiled. "I have promises to keep, Derek, and miles to go before I sleep."  
  
***  
  
Hermione shrugged slowly into her outer robes and left the Gryffindor common room quietly. Harry and Ron were asleep, she knew, and she didn't want to wake them. There were no other Gryffindor students in the school at that time either.  
  
It was Christmas, over four months since Sirius had left, and the pain wrenching her heart was growing worse each day, even each minute that he was gone. Would he, she couldn't help but wonder, ever come back? Or would he find someone else to love in his hideout and stay there even after Krum's protests died?  
  
That was a terrifying thought, and she didn't like thinking it.  
  
These walks were frequently taken, almost every night, in an attempt to escape the confines of the world she had always loved - a world she now felt trapped in simply because he wasn't there anymore.  
  
She swallowed hard, blinking back tears. She needed him. She loved him.  
  
Why hadn't she told him?  
  
In jeans and a tank top, with her robes wrapped around her to keep her slightly warm, she felt oddly empty and lost, with nowhere to go and no one to be with. Her heart felt like a silent tomb, a cold wasteland that could no longer rest, no longer live, no longer breathe. It was a weight that bore down on her in the moments when sheer willpower was all that kept her going, the futile hope that she'd turn around and somehow he'd be there.  
  
"Miss Granger?"  
  
Hermione flinched slightly, sighing and looked up to see Albus Dumbledore standing at the foot of the stairs a few feet away from her. His bright blue eyes were concerned.  
  
"Hi, Professor." She greeted softly.  
  
"Insomnia, Hermione?" he asked gently.  
  
She nodded. "Can't sleep."  
  
"Because of the nightmares? Or simple unrest?"  
  
He was blunt if nothing else. Hermione couldn't help but smile slightly at the twinkling eyes of her Headmaster and watched as he smiled back. She shrugged. "Simple unrest, I'd say. How did you know - ?"  
  
"About Viktor Krum?" Dumbledore's eyes softened even more behind his half- moon glasses. "Let's just say I deduced that no other force in the world that the one that arose from that crime could have driven Sirius to the murder he committed. I'm not telling you murder is excusable, Hermione, but had I been in Sirius's position, I'd have done the same thing." He winked slightly.  
  
Hermione thought about what he'd just said. "You - you said a force that arose from the crime drove him to it . . ." she said slowly. "What - what force do - do you mean?"  
  
Professor Dumbledore looked amused. "Love, of course."  
  
Her knees nearly buckled, but by amazing control, she straightened and looked at the old wizard with incredulous eyes. "You think he's in love with me, Professor Dumbledore?" she demanded, unable to believe it.  
  
"Certainly. I'd have thought it was quite obvious. Although Mr. Weasley might have taken his own time to allow the signs to penetrate his unusually - er - strong - skull, I'm sure Harry and Professor Lupin had a good time concealing their amusement about the situation."  
  
If Hermione hadn't been so startled by the possibility that Sirius might actually want and love her as deeply and as achingly as she did for him, she would have laughed at Dumbledore's way of putting things.  
  
She blushed; her Headmaster was indirectly giving her relationship advice!  
  
"You'd better get back to your common room," Dumbledore's eyes were definitely alight with amusement and laughter now. "Goodnight, Hermione - and sleep well."  
  
She stared at him. Hadn't she just told him she had insomnia? What was he talking about?  
  
"Thank you, sir." She said softly and with genuine gratitude. "Thanks a lot. Sweet dreams"  
  
"I'm certain I'll get them tonight, Miss Granger. And about your gratitude - you may count on me anytime."  
  
Watching him as he ascended the flight of stairs, Hermione turned around and slowly headed back to the common room. Within moments, however, her elation about Sirius possibly being in love with her broke away to reveal the deep pain that had dominated her for so long, mixed with a little confusion about Dumbledore's 'message' to her.  
  
Tears stung her eyes again as she mumbled the password to the Fat Lady and climbed into the common room, her eyes lowered as she blinked the salt away yet again. How she wished she was with him.  
  
As she began to pull the portrait shut, she heard a husky voice behind her speak:  
  
"Out a little late, aren't you?"  
  
Every muscle in her body froze. Hermione felt her heart suddenly speed up, not daring to believe her own ears. And then, slowly, she turned around to find Sirius standing less than three feet away from her, looking exactly how she remembered him, a sexy smile playing on his mouth.  
  
That was all she needed. As the fire burned again in the cold wasteland of her heart, Hermione broke down completely. Sirius held her close, letting her cry and feeling the tears of incredible relief and amazement fill his own eyes.  
  
When she finally let go, she tilted her head back to look into his eyes. "You came back." She whispered, shaking her head, still unsure of whether this was a dream. It couldn't be, though, because she never slept.  
  
"I had a promise to keep, didn't I?" Sirius gently brushed away a stray tear from her cheek and then before either of them knew what was happening, he kissed her. Fire exploded in every cell of his body while every muscle in hers melted into nothing. When they broke the kiss, Sirius leaned closer and whispered in her ear, "I love you, 'Mione. Nothing's going to take me away from you ever again."  
  
Fumbling for her wand, she flicked it. Then she slid down towards the squashy mattress she had conjured up, pulling him down with her. He grinned, and leaned down to kiss her again as she murmured, "I love you too, Sirius. Always."  
  
The miles finally covered, they both slept deeply that night.  
  
** THE END  
  
**  
  
A/n: And so another story ends. I hate the fact that he was killed in OOTP so I'm going to keep writing about him like he's still alive. Anyway, I hope you guys liked the story and please review and let me know what you think. Thanks for all the support and encouragement so far!  
  
Luv, ViXeN 


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